“I can show you the post-office—it’s nearer than the pillar-box,” said Jasper. “Mumsey lets me go to buy stamps—and the omlibus startin’-place, and the church, and—”
“Don’t be silly, Jasper,” said Leila, who was feeling cross at having to go out. “That’s not what Aunt Margaret wants to see—not that there’s anything at all to see,” she added gloomily. “It’s perfectly hideous, it’s not like London at all.”
“I thought you were within a mile of Kensington Gardens,” said Miss Fortescue quietly. “I have very pleasant associations with Kensington Gardens and the old Palace.”
“We’ve never been there since we came,” said Leila. “Mother’s been too busy to take us, and besides—they’re always stuffed with nursery-maids and perambulators.”
“Well—let us explore a little by degrees; as the spring comes on we must find some pleasant walks. But we must be quick just now, or it will be getting too late for even a short one.”
And for a wonder the two sisters did manage to be ready when their aunt came downstairs, followed by Jasper, who insisted on carrying her “numbrella.” Leila was feeling a little ashamed of her peevishness, and Chrissie was still under the good impression of the morning. So both were, for the time being, at their best, and the walk passed off pleasantly.
But Aunt Margaret was very observant, and even now, in these first few day’s, when the novelty of her presence and the influence of her never-failing cheerful kindliness did much to smooth things, her heart was sometimes sad and anxious.
“They have been terribly spoilt,” she said to herself, “and while life was made so very easy for them, this did not show as it does now. Poor dears—I hope we may be able to check this selfishness and want of consideration for others—it may be more owing to want of thought than to any deeper cause.”
As time went on, however, her anxiety and disappointment increased. Leila fell back into her indolent habits, and Christabel grew more openly defiant and self-willed. And at last their mother felt that she could no longer go on trying to make the best of things in hopes of sparing her aunt distress, and herself perhaps, unselfish as she was, some sharp mortification.
“I don’t know what to do with either of the little girls,” she said one day, when things and tempers had been unusually trying. “I cannot bear to say much about it to Reginald—he has enough to worry him in so many ways. I had hoped that when we settled down into this new life they would really try to be a comfort to us. But they think of nothing but their own likes and dislikes—they don’t seem to have the least idea of obedience. Why, Chrissie was almost rude to you, dear aunt, at their French lesson to-day—and Leila had evidently not pretended to learn those verses! And you are so good to them.”